


asking for it

by jeanjosten



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Mild Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quiet Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 23:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13914297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeanjosten/pseuds/jeanjosten
Summary: Kevin and Neil make a deal to be honest and clear about the things they want. This slowly turns into a game of give and take, and Neil’s only shot at asking for what he really wants.





	asking for it

**Author's Note:**

> Originally [posted on tumblr](https://wesninskids.tumblr.com/post/170631437152/asking-for-it).

It started with nothing much—Kevin saying Neil should ask for the things he wanted, if he really wanted them. Never, in his wildest dreams, he would’ve assumed it would turn out like this, but he was fine with it.

The first time Neil had asked something out of Kevin, it was related to practice. And though it couldn’t be surprising from the both of them, Neil’s following request of being outwardly honest with each other felt wobbly as a lie. Neil, a pathological liar, asking for the truth—out of Kevin’s mouth. They should have just stayed there, knowing somehow things could only backfire from a not so innocent sincerity game—but, as they did with everything else, they kept going.

Neil’s third request, far after this one, was probably what kicked Kevin into realizing what was going on. That there was something going on at all between the two should have been alarming enough, but for some obscure reason, Kevin only scooted closer, all ears, ready to welcome whatever feverish whim Neil would ask for.

His third was a kiss.

His fourth, another.

By the fifth, they were already stumbling down the hall and into the dorm room, not as certain it was empty as they should have been but going anyway. Hands clutched fabric and lips brushed skin, hungry, as though they had never tasted anything else. It was a study in tenderness, and they were both willing to see how far they’d go with something as unknown and terrifying as that.

Surprisingly enough, they didn’t make bad lovers. They were each other’s perfect match, as far as matches went, and their mutual, ever-growing obsession for one another could only add to it when they slipped out of practice, weary and cheeks red, nervously glancing around for the best place they could entertain their secret.

Not that it was much of a secret anyway—Allison had picked up on it in a matter of days, but she had taken it upon herself to comfort its untouchable secrecy, most likely to win a bet only she would have the answer to. Allison wouldn’t call that cheating, of course. She’d call this pragmatism and strategy, two things she handled equally gracefully.

It was around the tenth or eleventh time when Neil stood in the doorway, hands deep in his pockets, staring down at Kevin though he didn’t stare back for all the world. Sitting on the ground against his own bed, a laptop in his lap, he was somewhere between his second and third game. That Neil had refused to watch them with him had been irritating—that he came back like nothing had happened was even more infuriating. Kevin did a great job ignoring him, thumb tracing mindless circles over his other hand.

“Ignoring me again, I see,” Neil uselessly commented. The lack of answer validated his words more than Kevin’s could have.

He glanced above his shoulder, knowing a little too well Nicky and the twins were all three competing in a driving game he had no interest in. The glance in itself could have been suggestive enough, but the way he bit his cheeks in gave the rest away. Kevin didn’t even have to look up to feel it; tension was everywhere in the room, floating heavily between their two bodies, asking to be addressed, to be relieved. It was almost painful.

“Don’t lock yourself up alone in here,” Neil tried again.

“I wasn’t locked up,” Kevin contradicted without bothering looking up. Desire was a tough thing to ignore, but for a fleeting minute Kevin’s pride was stronger. It was bound not to last, though, and they both knew it.

Neil gave another nervous glance behind him, but nobody seemed to realize he was gone. He stepped inside the bedroom and closed the door behind him, awkwardly standing there in the dimly lit crowded space. He gently kicked Kevin’s shins where they laid on the ground, and the glare he got was all bitterness.

“Are you still angry at me?” The question was unnecessary, answer all too obvious, but he asked it nonetheless. The sigh he couldn’t hold back finally got Kevin’s attention, and he paused the game with an aggressive finger on the space bar.

“What do you want?”

Somewhere there was defiance in Kevin’s words, something fierce and restless they both sensed. Neil would have gladly opted for a casual ‘nothing’ but their newfound honesty was too precious to spoil for so little.

“You,” Neil shrugged. Kevin frowned, as though not quite grasping what he was saying, so he repeated: “I want you.”

“That’s too bad.” His eyes flicked back to the screen, but he didn’t press play for all that. It was a minuscule sign—but it was a sign still, and Neil picked up on it in a second.

“You want me, too,” he assumed.

It was bold, but it was safe: it wasn’t like anything had ever been one-sided between the two of them. From the beginning, the very beginning, it had always been him and him, them both, together, endlessly. Neil should have found it terrifying, but he found it pleasant instead, like perhaps the certainty they were bound to find each other again no matter what. He could call it whatever he wanted: fate, destiny, luck, or maybe just inevitability.

Kevin looked up, torn between admitting the truth and silently denying it. Both seemed cruelly unpleasant, and he entertained the thought of leaving the dorm; but it was past two a.m. and he had nowhere to go, without a car, without Neil.

“Maybe,” Kevin conceded. It was all he was going to concede tonight anyway.

“Maybe,” Neil repeated, like the words felt wrong on his tongue—and they did. “I thought we were done lying to each other.”

“That’s not lying.”

“No, you’re right. That’s avoidance. You’re avoiding me because you’re mad and childish and possessive.” Silence settled in, eyes glaring in both directions, quietly fighting for dominance. It was hard to tell who had the upper hand on who; perhaps they had always been equal. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t like to share,” is all Kevin said. But it was truth, so Neil took it.

“Fine, then. I’m telling you: you don’t have material to worry about. I’m yours.”

The words hung in between them, and Neil didn’t miss the way Kevin swallowed them. They echoed all around, like a prayer, a plea maybe; something dangerous and beautiful and terrible. Something Kevin couldn’t ignore, and didn’t want to. That Neil would say it, aloud, that he was _his_ —for a repentant liar, this truth was gold. He was going to cherish it, bury it somewhere nobody could ever get their hands on it. On the other hand, he wanted it displayed for all to see—he wanted the world to know the limits of their greed, the unchangeable fact that Neil Josten belonged to him (and always would).

He closed his laptop, and the faint smile on Neil’s lips took the small gesture as a victory. He’d take them where he could, with Kevin.

“You want me,” Kevin repeated after a while. It was like he didn’t believe the worlds, though they both knew he did—it was twisting them on his tongue, it was testing the sound of it. He liked them.

“I want you,” Neil nodded. Admitting it had become casual enough that he didn’t feel shameful for such selfish desires. He’d had plenty of time to come to terms with the things he craved and the things he couldn’t. Kevin was somewhere in between, unsure, and he’d take everything he was allowed to. He was not letting go.

“Is that a request?”

Neil pondered. He softly shook his head—he wanted Kevin, but the words were too vague for such a desire. He didn’t want to waste what little Kevin was willing to give.

“Then this is pointless,” Kevin discarded, cold again, as he reached out for the edge of his laptop.

Neil moved so swiftly his knees crashed into the ground, painfully so, but he didn’t have time to linger on the discomfort, fingers tight around Kevin’s computer to keep him from going back to his exy game. He didn’t want him to, but most importantly, he didn’t think Kevin really wanted to either. Denial was something he’d learned to spot out of necessity, and it tainted Kevin’s words everywhere they laid. Everywhere but on his skin, that is—and he craved that sort of helpless honesty again.

If they kissed, there was nothing to deny anymore.

He idly wondered when they last had.

“Don’t play this game with me, Kevin.”

They were close now, close enough that Neil could feel Kevin’s warm breath colliding with his own. None of them backed off—Kevin was cornered anyway—and really, none wanted to. They had craved this proximity for days now, and Kevin closed his eyes, breathing as deeply as he could like Neil’s firm hand clasped around his wrist was everything he’d ever needed.

When he opened them again, they laid on Neil’s lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he fought for self-control.

“I don’t just want you,” Neil explained in a short breath. It was hard keeping it under control when they were so close, when they could almost hear each other’s blood pumping in their ears. Where he had a grip on Kevin’s wrist, he felt his composure slip, pulse quicker and quicker with the seconds. It’s only when he searched for his next words Neil finally realized what he wanted, and with it, the certainty he’d come inside for this and only this. He didn’t care about Kevin’s bad moods, his exy games, his maladaptive loneliness. It was something else. “Now,” he breathed out, and when he let go of Kevin to grab his laptop, Kevin didn’t fight back. “And here.”

The slight wavering of Kevin’s brows was almost endearing.

“They might come in,” he tried, but it was half-hearted: already Neil was straddling his lap and he only found it in him to rest his back against the bed.

“They’re busy,” Neil brushed off.

“They might hear,” he tried again. This time, anxiety pierced through his words—clouded with something heavier, something like desire.

There was no mistaking it: the fact that, perhaps, they could hear them from the living room was definitely something Kevin didn’t mind that much. Neil cherished the thought, a timid and tender smile forming on his lips, like he’d discovered something beautiful he would never have imagined.

“We’ll be quiet, then.”

Every issue came with a solution, and Kevin couldn’t think of much more of an escape; and truly, he was long done pretending he wanted to escape this. Neil. And this thing that they shared, played, seduction—or affection, maybe. A strange and mesmerizing mixture of both, something heavy in their chest, warm on their cheeks, as soft as Neil’s hand on Kevin’s neck was now.

“Neil,” Kevin said as he lifted a hand to the back of Neil’s neck, and his name sounded like a plea, a prideful prayer for worship.

“I know,” he said, softly blowing on his lips.

Their kiss was slow and tender, patient, exploring each other like it was the first time. They didn’t fight for control and they didn’t rush it, content with the closeness they’d dreamed of for days, craved, needed—and shamelessly lost themselves in. Their second was sloppy and rushed, hungry for more as lips parted and allowed, tongues slipping in welcome and familiar as though claiming what was theirs.

They only stopped to breathe again, mouth against mouth, and the words Kevin let out were muffled in a half-moan as Neil scooted closer in his lap.

“You are so good.”

He could feel the way Neil’s breath hitched up against his lips, the way he seemed to retract and stop, take in the words—and when Neil looked at him again, his eyes were filled with something none of them would have suspected.

“You like it,” Kevin breathed out.

“Don’t mock me.” It was fierce and steady, like daring Kevin to use it against him.

Really, it was to be expected. His obsession with Kevin had only grown bigger and bigger with the years, and that was before they even met again. Now that they were against one another, pressed up close and needy, it was hard to ignore all those times Neil had strived for Kevin’s reassurance. Validation. Attention—full and undenied. _Praise_.

And somehow, he now had all of it without even knowing.

“You’re stunning,” Kevin said—and though it sounded like a test to make his point, or perhaps like a light-hearted mockery, it was all too sincere.

The effect was instant, and Neil scooted closer again, body searching for the friction where their crotches met. Sweatpants and underwear materials were thin enough that they felt it in the same breath, Kevin’s fingers tightening around his neck to contain the slow sigh of pleasure. Neil, on the other hand, didn’t have as much self-control left, mouthing breathless kisses against his neck and silencing his own groans in the warmth of his skin.

Kevin’s eyes shot open, a little too aware of the fact they might be easy to hear from the other side of the door. Though Nicky’s loud voice and the familiar scrunching of bean bags covered all background noise, Neil was slowly giving up on every bit of self-restraint, face tight in something that could have been displeasure or pain, if only Kevin’s fingers weren’t running up Neil’s bare spine underneath his shirt.

The shiver he couldn’t hold back was surprisingly arousing, and Neil nudged the crook of his neck in response. The slight hum was content, encouraging even.

Kevin didn’t hesitate to abandon his grip on Neil’s neck to grab hold of his shirt and pull it above his head, Neil hardly even protesting. It was harder, though, to miss the way Neil’s eyes focused again, as though snapping back to reality. Kevin had only seen him shirtless once, and never properly explored the skin he’d been given. There was lots of it—scars and cuts and bumps, pink patches of skin and endless scar tissue, bruises from rough practice and, a little less easy to spot, countless freckles splattered all over. It was beautiful, it really was, and Kevin slid a palm up his torso before cupping his face with both hands. He forced his gaze into his; there was no escaping now.

“Neil,” he said. There was an entire universe in this simple name, like he asked for nothing and everything at the same, like he ordered and allowed both.

“Yes,” he hummed, focus clouded by the thick haze of desire. Kevin didn’t even realize he’d slightly moved until friction got a quiet sigh out of them.

“Don’t shy away from me.” Neil’s eyes observed, weighing a proper response, but Kevin got none. “You don’t need to be afraid with me.”

And with that, he brought his face to his and they kissed again, Neil’s hands easily finding their way back home—where they belonged. They traced entire maps on top of Kevin’s sweatshirt, then crept lower to tease bare hipbones and grab the hem of it.

It didn’t take long for Kevin to end up shirtless in his turn, and it took even less for them to find each other’s mouths again, forgetting for a moment all the noise they were making by merely claiming swollen lips.

They didn’t stop to think about it all. They didn’t have the time—and they were too far gone anyway, bodies moving on their own, unstoppable, responding to lust only. There was no logic, no reason and no patience, no proper thinking, not the slightest trace of wisdom. It was like they’d wanted this all their life and would rather die than break apart, hands grabbing whatever they could, mouths sloppily working onto each other’s.

Neil got up on his knees to readjust his position, and Kevin was forced to tilt his neck backwards if he didn’t want the contact to break. It was an unfamiliar thing, to have Neil a tad taller, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, and when Neil sat back down they shared the same moan, erections brushing together. It was so insanely relieving and frustrating at the same time, and Kevin thought he might burst out laughing if he wasn’t so breathless already, Neil’s hands working their way up and down and up again, searching for the right place to rest, tracing twisted lines onto his torso before possessively grabbing hips.

Something echoed in the other room, and it got Neil’s attention in a second, eyes sharp glaring at the door like he was expecting the monsters to come in one by one. But no one came, and there was only the faint sound of Nicky’s excuses, drunken excuses for sure.

Kevin bucked his hips upward to bring his attention back to him, and though Neil kept his head turned towards the bedroom door, his eyes squeezed shut and he parted quiet lips. Nothing came out, not even a breath, and Kevin watched, stunned, swallowing his own pleasure down so he could witness Neil’s instead. It was far more rewarding in a sense, though he couldn’t explain it, and the mildest touch was so very intense he could barely take it.

He had been touched before, even chastely so, but nothing had ever come close to that. It was thrilling, magnetic, it was enthralling and everything he had ever wanted. Neil, all for him, this puzzling boy who’d lied and lied and lied and couldn’t lie anymore, not when his body told every truth in his stead. It was baffling, to have such a swindler within his possessive hands, pliant and obedient, willing to do anything to get a little more than what he’d already gotten.

It was hypnotizing, to say the least, and he could hardly glance at Neil without feeling dizzy.

“Fuck,” Neil laughed, a soft and meek thing, but hysterical too, hanging on the edge of reality like it was all too much, each thrust down against Kevin driving him further and further away from this world and into another. The one they shared, only the two of them, one made of honesty and kisses and quiet groans against bruised necks.

He bit down on flesh in the crook of Kevin’s neck when he bucked his hips again, asking for more friction, hands pressing down the small of Neil’s back to bring him closer. It was easy now and then to think about the possibility of being caught red-handed, but they were so painfully hard and so terribly breathless there would be no explaining any of it. Not anymore.

Perhaps did it comfort Kevin’s decision in speeding things up, not out of fear but out of impatience, fingers slipping down his back and underneath the waistband of Neil’s sweatpants. He grabbed a hold of the round, soft flesh there, and pulled hard—Neil brutally bumping into him. The impact should have been unpleasant, painful even, but the friction from crotch to crotch was so intense he could only cry out.

The sound of it made Kevin jump underneath him, and he swiftly raised his free hand to Neil’s lips to shut him up—but even through the thick barrier of his fingers, the muffled sound was deafening. It drove him insane, oh it did, but he didn’t want the rest of the lot to be alerted and bring this to a stop. He thought, idly, that he would do anything for it to last a little longer, stretching out seconds under his palm, rolling numb hips to meet Neil’s cock.

It was intimate, and chaste, and trifling—but it was everything and more, it was sin, desire, lust and every single dream they’d ever had about one another. About the two of them.

“Baby,” he rolled out of his tongue, not quite realizing it, and Neil twitched with pleasure at the sound of it.

Kevin hadn’t realized how loud he’d gotten himself until Neil clasped his own hand against his mouth, silencing each other and thrusting, thrusting, thrusting in muffled groans that turned into desperate cries in the back of their throats. They wondered how a thing could be so pleasurable it would tiptoe the line of torture, of pain and helplessness, but they couldn’t care less.

“Fuck, Neil—”

Something moved on the other room, possibly someone collecting plates and glasses from the living room, and the sound sent a bolt of surprise up Kevin’s spine. Though they were safe as long as they kept each other quiet, be it by self-control or by force, they couldn’t deny the possibility of one of them going to sleep. There was nowhere to hide, tangled up in the middle of the room, sweaters thrown around like the shameful traces of their lust. Not as shameful as what followed, anyway—

Because in a rush of adrenalin, Neil sped up the pace, and with it, the intensity of every brush, touch and caress, hips going wild and chest clumsily bumping into one another’s as they crashed into each other over and over and over again. It was fascinating, how swiftness and power were both linked, and everytime they ground into each other’s hard crotch felt even more terrible than the previous.

They couldn’t stop, and they didn’t—until they went so fast and abrupt both were able to tell the very moment they stepped over the edge. There was no going back after that, and every desperate buck of their hips stretched out, almost painfully imprinting itself on each other’s bodies where the impact repeated itself, endlessly; bruises forming where Neil’s grab on Kevin’s hips got firmer, and dangerous red lines scratching down Neil’s back where Kevin dug his nails in to contain the pleasure.

They both fought for control over each other as they tried to escape the silencing palms, and somehow it made it all the more intense, lips desperately parting but lustful cries meeting only quiet.

A door closed and they both thought it was over, that they were found—but they kept going anyway, squeezing their eyes shut because they couldn’t bring this to an end even if they tried.

Release sounded like torture, breaths long lost and voices broken, Kevin pulling on Neil’s hair to suppress uncontrollable waves of hunger and ecstasy. He shivered underneath him, and Neil’s back arched on its own, taking the upper hand as he rested a hand on Kevin’s knee to give himself more momentum. It took two, three, perhaps four thrusts for Neil to send himself over the edge, where he couldn’t be found anymore, where he was lost, willingly so, pulse so quick he wondered if it felt like dying.

But Neil Josten had gotten close to death so many times, and none of them had ever felt this good.

Kevin desperately searched for relief as he met Neil from underneath, bodies colliding, both coming in their sweatpants but unable to find it in them to care. It was Kevin who brought Neil down again, and this time they dragged it out, hands falling from their mouths as they inadvertently let out one last whine in unison.

“Baby…” Kevin sang again, this time his voice a complete raspy mess.

Neil slumped himself onto him, forehead on his shoulder as he searched for the breath he’d lost long ago. It had been exhausting, moving back and forth in Kevin’s lap, with his knees mercilessly grinding into hard ground—but relief felt delicious, a high so pure and absolute it couldn’t be imitated by drugs, or alcohol, or any kind of recklessness. Nothing could ever top this. Nothing could ever be better.

When Neil tried to talk his breath hitched up twice, and Kevin idly wondered if he was sobbing. He didn’t find the words to voice his feelings, anyways, body a spineless mess lying on top of his and cocks going soft with each passing second.

It’s only when Kevin stroked the small of Neil’s back that he realized how sweaty he was—how sweaty they both were.

“You are the best,” Kevin whispered, and really, he couldn’t get louder than that if he tried.

Exhaustion spread like a disease, so very welcome neither of them really fought it. The soft snort against his shoulder was Neil’s only response, but it was so familiar and obnoxious he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around Neil’s waist to pull him closer.

They stayed like there for a minute or two, though they were unsure how long—and when Neil sat upright in his lap again, strength slowly coming back but barely enough to stay awake, they shared a knowing and silent glance. It was the sudden realization of every single thing that had happened, and, perhaps, a permission for it to happen again sometime. What Neil wordlessly asked, Kevin accepted as he reached down the front of Neil’s sweatpants and observed, dragging his thumb over the wet patch of dark grey to collect whatever had soaked through.

Neil could only watch as he brought his thumb to his mouth and locked eyes with him, wrapping swollen lips around it. He wondered how Kevin could ever act so brave and shameless when he was prone to so much anxiety, but he wasn’t going to complain. Instead he entertained the thought that he was the one who made Kevin cheekier.

Fearless. Bold and impudent.

“They’re going to come in, any minute now,” Neil tried to find his voice, because if he stayed in Kevin’s lap, he didn’t know what he’d do.

A part of him was already fast asleep, and it took so much effort to settle back on Kevin’s thighs that he eventually gave up. Kevin understood, somehow, because he wrapped a strong arm around his waist and used his other on the edge of the bed to lever them both up and off the ground. When Neil’s feet landed, his knees went wobbly and weak, and he lost his balance, only barely maintained by Kevin’s solid frame.

He waited until Neil could stand to let go, and when he did, they stared each other down in silence. Processing; craving, in other ways perhaps. It was easy to decide it, then, when their eyes spoke for themselves, hands reaching out to slowly brush a shoulder or a cheek.

They changed into clean clothes and put the evidence of their desire into an unsuspected ball of fabric down Neil’s hamper.

They didn’t bring it up, not even when Kevin invited Neil onto his bunk bed, and certainly not when they both fell asleep tangled in each other’s warmth. What Neil dreamed about—his next request, perhaps, or maybe he didn’t need to ask for anything anymore: Kevin would give him everything anyway.


End file.
